It
is assumed in our culture that latest is best. The notion
probably got its start thanks to the prominence of science
and technology, two fields in which progress is a fact. But
the belief has taken over the American mindset to the extent
that all products of our culture adhere to that standard.
Film, music, television, literature, fashion, education, family
style, politics, philosophy, and even religion must all keep
up to date in order to seem credible. Consequently, any cultural
product that is not the most recent addition is considered
negligible and discarded.
This consequence is regrettable because culture from the past,
as is the case with science and technology, is necessary to
build new and progressive cultural products and keeping it
in our minds is integral to future success. It is also true
that cultural products like film, music, and literature are
based in ideas and, as such, they are able to stand on their
own—they are rewarding in themselves no matter what
age they are received in. The secret that the open-minded
will discover is that culture from the past has much more
substance and can be much more enjoyable than that of today
and we are lucky that it has been maintained for our pleasure
as well as our edification.
To say that older works are better than modern works is not
to say that the grass is always greener on the other side
or the past is always golden. It is true because societies
change and a society’s form dictates what culture it
produces. It just so happens that societies of the past were
stronger, more innovative, and nobler than ours is today and
the quality of the music, storytelling, and art reflects that.
What has changed? Simply put, we are more capable today than
we were 500 years ago or even 50 years ago. Our techne has
developed so much that we can do things that were unimaginable
just 20 years ago and the trend shows no signs of slowing.
This improvement on technique is nearly universal. It spans
medical and scientific fields and carries over into business
and economics.
Techniques in the arts have improved as well. A comparison
between the most advanced form of visual art in 1500 and that
of today makes the point clear. Painting was as powerful an
art as could be created in the Renaissance. It was somewhat
simple, required the skill of an artisan, but everyone knew
what was involved in the process and, since the product was
solid and tangible, few could be blown away by the finished
product.
The forefront of visual art these days features a number of
varied media, but 3-D computer animation may be the most compelling
example. It is as complex as can be imagined especially for
those who are not involved with computer programming, which
is nearly all of the population. Its complexity and intangibility
can be proven by the wonder with which people gaze at the
latest film of the genre—we are truly blown away by
it.
With 3-D animation, we have been able to recreate the natural
world, human expressions, and moods with no noticeable flaws
whatever, a feat that even Michelangelo or Leonardo could
not post on his resume. We have improved the techniques of
those masters’ arts as well—painting, music, and
storytelling have all been perfected or at least nearly perfected
as we have honed in on every aspect of the art forms and uncompromisingly
fine-tuned the way each are delivered.
We have uncovered human psychology and discovered what the
arts do to us mentally and better targeted those faculties.
Not only is the method infinitely powerful, but so too is
the content infinitely relevant and engrossing. In this way,
the art does not have to be filled with dazzling special effects
to draw us in more convincingly. Altogether, the modern arts
are more skillful, more visually appealing, more engaging
(addictive), more realistic, more fantastic, and more enlivening
than ever before; they are perfectly crafted pleasure pills
that we just cannot get enough of.
But while a movie from 1939 (not to mention a play acted in
1639) has absolutely no power to engage an audience compared
to a 2004 blockbuster, it cannot be said that it lacks merit
completely. The Wizard of Oz, with its glowing colors, was
the first of its kind and no doubt dazzled contemporary moviegoers
like The Incredibles does today. And it was for audiences
of all ages, not just children, as cutting-edge technique
interests all people in a given society.
The improvements on technique that impressed audiences 70
years ago are no less significant today even though we have
taken them for granted, moving past them in favor of new enhancements.
Film presented in full color is still an amazing thing even
though we have no black and white to compare it to. For that
matter, moving pictures—even the black and white kinds—are
themselves an amazing feat even though we are not stuck in
the mode of paintings.
When an old film uses a good 30 seconds to open a scene with
a long, drawn-out pan into a crowded, bustling marketplace,
the modern audience falls directly asleep. They do not realize
all that is going on. They forget the technology and vision
it takes to first sit us atop such a scene, seemingly floating,
and then gradually descend us into the crowd. It is an amazing
feat even if the ride at Six Flags does the same thing much
faster and over a greater distance. Having the latter should
not relegate the significance of the former—both are
equally fascinating.
Good art moves the audience from where they are to a new and
better place. To do this, the artist must first understand
his audience and make a connection where they are at the time.
Past art connected to past audiences, and so, to appreciate
past art, one must place oneself in that period as far as
expectations and desires go. He must understand life the way
people did then and, once he does, their arts suddenly become
enjoyable. What enraptured them will enrapture him as well.
One does this in order to enjoy the technique of classical
art as examined above, but technique is only half of art.
The ideas behind the art play as sizeable a role as technique
does and too they can be much more rewarding. Technique keeps
us on the edge of our seats while we are witnessing it, but
the idea is what makes us float out of the theater and keeps
the visions in our heads for days. The idea is the new and
better place the art takes us and that is really the point
of the art. So, in order to fully enjoy the art of the past,
one must prepare for the ideas as well.
This means that one must place himself in a frame of mind
that not only neglects modern technological advances, but
one that neglects modern cultural advances in total. That
includes social and ethical standards that have dear, personal
significance. One must find out how people talked and acted,
what major political and social structures were in place,
what kind of pace life was lived at, and what was important
to the people of the age concerned.
That is, of course, the most crucial aspect of fitting into
another culture’s shoes—grasping what it is that
the other culture aims for. It is also the most difficult
aspect because it involves letting go of our aims or of what
we feel is important. The older goals might well be outdated
and quite possibly conflict with our own goals meaning that
we would have to defeat ourselves somewhat to witness an older
work. While it is jarring to think of technology the way that
we did in the past, it can feel unethical and corrupt to place
oneself in the complete mindset of past cultures.
For example, to appreciate one of Shakespeare’s plays,
one must get used to a different way of speaking and probably
dressing, and other customs, but one must also get used to
the notion of kings and queens and the devotion that their
subjects would have for them. In Shakespeare’s time,
monarchy was a fact. We laugh at the prospect of serving a
leader as they did then and cannot easily relate to the mentality
or behaviors of the characters at times. They just don’t
seem right and are rather ridiculous instead. This is why
not a few Shakespearean adaptations include altered content
(in addition to language and dress) so as to appeal to a new
temperament.
One will rightly question whether a play is worth taking in
if the main characters are foolish and maintain ridiculous
ideals. Theater, like all storytelling, is based in the decisions
that the protagonist must make when faced with obstacles.
If the protagonist is a fool, then, we cannot be inspired
by his decisions and the story as a whole seems worthless.
But what makes a character foolish is not what clothes he
wears in the first act or whether he aims to blindly please
his ruler at any cost, it is making a decision somewhere along
the line that is inappropriate for his person or that contradicts
his aims. If he is able to make decisions that not only fulfill
his ambitions, but does so in inventive and surprising ways,
he is a hero. We love to watch a protagonist face challenges
and imagine what we would do in such a situation. If the hero
can show us a way out of troubling predicaments in ways that
we did not think of, we are thoroughly entertained. The movement
from his starting point to his final destination given the
obstacles he faces is the idea of the play and that very important
component is retrievable from all good art no matter who the
protagonist is and what predicaments he his faced with.
If we are able assume the virtue in the aims and ambitions
of past cultures and put ourselves in the shoes of past societies,
we will find that the ideas presented by the classics are
rich and plentiful. That is because the aims and ambitions
of past cultures offer much more enthralling challenges than
those of today. As explained above, ours is an age of great
technical expertise. One might say that we have near infinite
freedom in what we can do. The result of this is complex and
cannot be fully examined here. It will suffice to say that
our freedom has redirected our focus from something above
us to our own plane, the social realm, to the bringers of
our freedom.
Ours is doubtless a fascinating plane, filled with intrigue
and mystery, and art that reflects this is quite engaging.
But the art is limited in its scope as it lacks the upward
mobility. When we are as high as it gets, the ceiling constricts
and the art cannot carry us to a new and better place. The
result is art that has energy and drive with nowhere to go.
It promises self-actualization, but inevitably must fall away
from it.
With freedom and power not taken for granted, art of the past
acknowledges the need for growth and upward motion, and with
it opens the ceiling to a seemingly limitless universe of
possibility. The symbol most used to represent this possibility,
God, with the upward motion represented by religion, was the
centerpiece of nearly all classic works.
In our ‘enlightened’ age, we have discarded religion
and especially Christianity as either blind following led
by tyrannous rule or quaint emotional sustenance for the masses,
neither of which demand much respect. But religion contains
some phenomenal ideas. The one that anchors the Christian
faith—that God manifested Himself into man through Jesus
to become half man and half God—is a concept pregnant
with inspiration and awe. What is it to be man? To be God?
What was God’s message in becoming both? What is the
role of miracle? What is the significance of life?
It cannot be said that God is absent from the movies and philosophies
of modern society, but He definitely has changed roles from
the all-pervasive and all-encompassing goal of culture that
He was before the 20C. He has been relocated to a humbler
station from where we can summon Him whenever we so choose,
for instance, when we want to reference something that is
mystical or out of our control. Christianity’s God has
been rejected and replaced by a more Eastern concept where
each person has his own god that reflects the personality
and morals of each individual. Altogether, religion has become
some mystical defense of one’s personal behavior. God
today is a tool that helps us construct our own social standing
and offers no more ideas than might a mysterious glowing briefcase
that no one knows the contents of.
Classical music illustrates best. It is probably the most
difficult of the classic arts to appreciate, mainly due to
the power of modern music, which is simply enthralling. Putting
on the latest hit or the next big anthem is like tuning into
life with the kind of energy it brings. Its rhythm makes us
want to see and be seen, the instrumentation links us to the
new century, the vocals and lyrics radiate our concerns and
desires, and the melody wraps it all up, amplifying the connection
we feel between one another. It is all that an art should
be.
Modern music’s format is relatively simple. It presents
an idea in verse form, then it reiterates that verse by repeating
it or going over it again with slightly altered lyrics. Getting
the point by now, the audience needs more and so the song
moves into a different mode, the chorus, which has many similarities
to the verse, but stands out nonetheless. For the sake of
emphasis, after the chorus, the song returns to the verse
and follows it up again with another chorus. The audience
gets this point as well after the second go-through, and so
the song introduces yet another component, the bridge. It
is usually more distinct than the others and nearly represents
a full departure from the nest song. But it progresses and
carries us far enough that we barely lose sight of that nest
before it returns us and we are home again to enjoy another
verse and chorus.
We go on this adventure almost every time we turn on the mp3
player. It is so popular because it works. It takes us on
a trip and draws out the melodies so that each part is fully
realized without being exhausted. But there are other ways
to make full use of melodies. Some require different formats
to sound good and so limiting music to this good format may
be comforting, but it denies us music’s entirety.
Classical music knows no formulas when it comes to format
and that is one reason why it is so difficult to get in to.
None of it is familiar like modern music is so one cannot
know what to expect when he listens to the old works. This
formula-free style is also how classical music can express
the number of feelings and themes that it does—a number
much greater than that of modern music. Classical music is
nearly limitless in its ability to convey mood, which is in
large part why it fits so well in movies even long after classical
music has disappeared from the purely musical arena.
The critic will suggest that it does not matter how flexible
the music is as long as it does not address the feelings and
themes that are important today. Beethoven’s countless
masterpieces may be perfect in form, but they mean nothing
because they cannot get a crowd jumping at the local discotheque
and they cannot turn one’s desires into action on the
dance floor.
Music is a very social art. By its auditory nature, it can
be experienced by many at once so that all in earshot are
connected. Song is also an embellishment of our most basic
form of communication, talking, its intonations reflecting
and amplifying those of a person speaking. As speech is a
most commanding form of social interaction, it connects music
to the social in ways no other art can.
As such, music fits in a social age like ours better than
any other art does. We simply love music and fit our lives
around the CDs and mp3s we buy and the musicians who produce
the art for us. This also obliges music to lodge itself in
the social so that its feeling and substance embodies the
intricacies of our daily interactions and personal relationships
as opposed to the struggle with our own imperfection, for
instance, or the presence of the Trinity.
But music can represent those other facets of life in addition
to the more natural, social ones. When it does, the music
rewards the listener to a much greater degree. The audience
feels a sense of resolution that the motionless contemporary
music fails to offer, and, by virtue of the challenging predicament
classical content presents, resolution is much more complete.
By nature,
the classics must last. That is to say that they are enjoyable
beyond the age that gives them birth. What makes them accessible
in an age with different customs and superficial activities
is their ability to detach themselves from those material
constructs. Art that is not dependent on style of dress, manners,
and even the language used is art that will continue to enliven
the spirit for ages to come. Perhaps it is our familiarity
with modern arts, those that are so dependent on material
constructs, that makes it difficult to appreciate the classics.
We are used to seeing and hearing about our superficial things.
The more our society changes, the more we will realize that
the thrill we got from a movie or song 5 years ago does not
necessarily last and we will begin to look for something that
will. The classics will be waiting patiently. |
